


The Burn of a Lie

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belts, Discipline, Hunting, Lies, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-14
Updated: 2011-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 4: Lies.  Dean sneaks out on a hunt he was told not to, lies to Sam and John.  Disciplinary action ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Burn of a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only.

Dean is screwed. Seasoned Marines didn’t lie to John Winchester, let alone his sons.

 _No Dad, just a friend I wanna see._ A werewolf that had slipped their grasp months before, that kind of old friend. _No Dad, Sam’s fine without me for a day or two._ Sam’s recent sprain needed more time – and he’d flipped when Dean suggested hunting alone. _No, Dad, I’m not leaving him without transportation, I’ll just catch a bus._ Like hell. He didn’t want Sam having the opportunity to catch up with him. _No Dad, we hadn’t heard anything about a werewolf out that way._ It was just Sam who hadn’t heard anything, really. So that one wasn’t an entire lie, right? _No Dad, I’ll be back by Wednesday, Sam needs a break, we’re all good._ And that one was probably the one that signed Dean’s death contract, because as he mentally counts, coming down the trail filthy, dirty,  & bruised, it's Friday.

He stumbles out of the woods, feeling good as the werewolf was dead, to see John standing with Sam in the trailhead’s parking lot. The truck blocks his view of the Impala. Dean takes a deep breath, tries to stand straighter than he really wants to with the fresh smattering of bruises, tries for a casual stroll down towards the cars. He's earning points by coming in, right? Not making John track him?

Sam’s voice is low and dangerous. “Dad.”

John glances at his youngest boy, and then follows Sam’s gaze, which is fixed on Dean's midsection, as if he could see the bruises. Dean in’t happy with how John’s body straightens, muscles unconsciously flicking into military bearing. Dean tries to straighten more, and feels the burning gazes of both men assess his condition. He isn’t in bad shape, really, for a post-werewolf hunt, but his ribs are definitely, definitely bruised.

“Get your ass over here NOW,” bellows John, and he steps up his pace. John yanks the big first aid kit onto the tailgate, and Dean feels even more nervous as he reaches them. Danger is written in every line of Sam’s lean body, as he rests against the truck. Dean is well and truly fucked.

“Strip,” comes the next command, and Dean hesitates. Strip? He fumbles with his shirt as John snarls and reaches for him. Kicking off his boots and jeans, he hopes it didn’t include his… shit. John yanks the boxers down, and looks Dean up and down, a hard and unforgiving grip on his arm turning him around. Dean swallows. John’s big fingers probing his ribs hurt like a bitch, and Dean tries not to breathe. “Just bruised?”

“Yessir.”

“Sam, pull out some clean clothes for your brother.” Sam’s actions are slow and sinuous, deliberate, but John says nothing about the younger man’s attitude. “Camped close?”

“Quarter mile up the ridge, sir.”

Sam hands the stack of clothing to John, not Dean.

“Sam, grab our gear and head up. Dean and I need to chat.”

“Yessir,” comes the answer, again, that deceptive tone that all three of them know conceals preternatural fury. Sam grabbed both packs with ease and started up the trail. Dean wants to object, Sam in’t the best at tracking, but somehow he can’t work the words up.

John looks hard at his oldest son. “Tailgate,” he barks, and Dean begins to turn slowly to face the truck – too slow for John. He grabs Dean’s hands, smacking them onto the open gate, and kicks the boy’s feet apart. He paces behind his son for long moments, counting up to a hundred nice and slow before he strips his belt out of its loops. The shock is clear on Dean’s face – John had never taken a belt to him before to punish him. Sam, yes. Dean, no.

“How old are you, son?”

“T-twenty-eight, sir.” That is never a good question.

“Wouldn’t you say that’s old enough to know better than to lie to your father?”

“Yessir.” And then some, his brain supplies, as he bites his tongue to try and keep from smarting off.

“Near as I can figure, that wasn’t one lie, but five.”

Oh shit. “Ah, yessir.”

“Think you wouldn’t be found out?” John’s tone is dropping lower and lower with each question, getting more and more quiet.

“Nossir.” He had, but that sort of answer wouldn't go over well here.

“Hunt as easy as you thought it would be, out on your own, on a lead you hadn’t followed up on?”

“Nossir.”

“Think this is gonna be easy?”

 _What?_ “Uh, no, sir.”

The first crack of the belt comes searing down on Dean’s exposed behind, quickly followed by four more, rapid fire, leaving him clenching his teeth, feeling the first traces of upset.

“I taught you boys to tell the truth,” barks his father. His dad’s voice rings against the trees, and Dean doesn’t doubt that Sam will hear everything. Another set of blazing licks from the thick leather belt, and Dean’s quivering. “Don’t understand why you’d lie, Dean, unless you don’t trust me.” Dean starts to whirl around, and John’s firm hands smack Dean’s back down on the tailgate, with a slap to his behind. “We’re a family, you and me and Sam – we tell each other things – we keep each other safe.” John brings the belt down harder. “This feel like safe to you? Bruised ribs, your old dad whipping your ass for you?” Another set of blows brings a whimper from the young man. “You tell me why you lied to me, lied to Sammy.”

Dean chokes on the words. “I… I didn’t want Sammy hurt again, knew I didn’t have time for you to get here, Dad.” He doesn’t understand the sound from behind him, the choked noise.

“Not good enough, Dean.” The belt comes down again, fire tracing along Dean’s thighs.

“Dad, I’m s-sorry-”

“I bet you are. Why, Dean, why would you lie?”

“Dad – I told you – I thought I could handle it-“

“You didn’t get enough of this over my knee the first time this happened?”

Dean flinches, and not just from the aching burn of the belt on his backside. He’d forgotten about that, a hunt just after he’d finished high school, where he thought he’d branch out on his own, nearly gotten himself killed.

“Dean?”

“I didn’t think, sir…” His voice is thick with misery. John hears the ring of truth in the statement, and swings one more time, leaving a white ridge on Dean’s buttocks that slowly fades into red stippled with purple. He turns his son around, and begins to dress him, underwear, t-shirt, jeans, and then bodily lifts the young man to sit on the tailgate, so he can lace up the kid’s boots. Dean’s refusing to look at him. And trying not to sob, and failing. John yanks the boy’s chin up, looks him in the eyes, and then Dean’s trying to tear away from him. John restrains him, forces him back into position, a hand on either side of Dean’s thighs, forehead to forehead.

“You ever gonna lie to me again?” There are tears rolling down John’s face, tears that hurt and fear and anger brought there, and Dean recognizes that – sees his own feelings from the last time Sam tried to bolt, go off on his own. John’s pain makes him want to run away, but his father makes him face it down, like always, like the good soldier that he is.

“N-no, sir,” he manages, and then he’s in John’s strong arms.

“I haven’t ever lied to you, son. Kept quiet a lot of times when maybe I shouldn’t, but I haven’t ever told you a lie – it would have destroyed this family. Please, please, give me that same respect, Dean. You and Sam both.”

And then his father’s arms are around him, and Sam’s too. And there in the twilight, Dean knows that lies can burn through a family and destroy it, and that’s the last thing he wants to do. His father holds him until the knowledge settles down, and all three of them know it. “Any time you need, Dean, you just ask for a reminder,” his Dad says, and lifts him down. He pushes Dean ahead, closes the tailgate. “Now you lead out to that camp, so we can get some supper, and some sleep.” And then he slaps Dean’s ass to get him moving, and yeah, there’s no way that Dean’s ever forgetting that lies are like fire.

**Author's Note:**

> Themesong while writing: Gordon Lightfoot - Sundown


End file.
